


The Silent One

by MeakMouse



Category: The Hobbit - All Media Types
Genre: BAMF Bilbo Baggins, Bilbo speaks Iglishmek, Dwalin is adoribal, M/M, PTSD, Scars, mute!Bilbo
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-08-16
Updated: 2018-06-04
Packaged: 2018-08-09 05:44:59
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 5,453
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7788964
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MeakMouse/pseuds/MeakMouse
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Bilbo is a badass with a traumatic past and no mark that somehow matches Dwalin's.</p>
<p>I suck at summaries. Just read. Its good, promise...maybe.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Okay, yes this is pretty much the exact same story 'The Silent One' that is one FF.net by Itanaru474 but its totally cool because I am Itanaru474. So there's that. I don't want to here any plagiaristic shit because dude I totally gave myself permission to post my work here. Besides I'm gonna try and make this one longer soooo. Yeah. Good reads. Oh and I totally don't own the Hobbit in anyway.
> 
> *October 5*
> 
> Just revised, hope it didn't change to much, just a couple of words and spelling mistakes. I think I caught it all but who knows. Its week six into the college career and, frankly, its kicking my ass. Working on chapter two now but who knows when it will actually go up. 
> 
> On another note, if anyone wants to beta for me send me a message or comment on the story itself. I'd be absolutely thrilled to work with you, as you can tell I'm not all that great at catching my ample mistakes.

As hobbits grew up in the shire they counted down the days until there awakening. It was well known that hobbits came of age at thirty-three. However, what is not well known, a coveted secret in fact, is that on the night of their awakening a mark appears. The mark, always different, is a name. The name of their other half. Their marked for lack of a better word. It will appear upon their forearm in the language of yavanna. A language only known to hobbits, born with the ability to understand the language in all forms. There has never been a hobbit without a mark of yavanna, that was however till... 

 

Bilbo Baggins, he was an adorable child. Filled with life and love for all things hobbitish. However, there was something different about our favorite hobbit of the shire, he loved going adventuring. Always running off into the woods with his custom bow and tiny dagger fashioned from the best elven metal that money could never buy. Lord Elrond had them fashioned for him personally when young Bilbo showed an interest to the more dangerous side of life. He was shunned for his love of the woods and the need to learn a trade that, to hobbits, seemed useless and undignified. Fauntlings, encouraged by their parents, threw rocks at Bilbo when all he wanted was to depart to the woods in silence to be alone. He was happy there, being trained by the twin elves when they came to visit his mother, Belladonna Baggins nee Took. 

 

It only changed with the presence of the fell winter. 

 

It had been months. Food was running low and the Brandywine River had frozen over, permitting more than wolves to cross into the shire. Everyone and everything was desperate for food. Bagend, the home to the Baggins family, was lived in by a small family. Much smaller than the rest of the shire, only two grown hobbits and a tween. Bungo and Belladonna took it upon themselves to help provide for their kin with food that it seemed only they possessed. 

 

It was a Saturday, the sun was out but it was so cold that Bungo had to wear shoes for his weekly run to the neighbors. Belladonna was worried. It had been hours and the sun that was previously shining bright was starting to set. 

 

Bungo had left at dawn, it was now dusk. 

 

Belladonna, a warrior in her own right trained by the elven king Lord Elrond himself, fashioned her sword and left with no word to her sleeping son in the next room. Unknown to Belladonna, Bilbo wouldn't be asleep for long.

 

Howling woke Bilbo from the light sleep that he was able to slip into with the worry for his father weighing heavily on his mind. He, Bilbo, should be the one out there. He was the one who had the training. Not his father, him. The howling sounded different, not like wolves. And the only thing other than wolves that crossed into the shire were orcs. Orcs who rode upon wargs. Wargs with sharp teeth and a pension for never leaving their prey alive.

 

Belladonna, like so many before, did not survive that night. 

 

Bilbo found her defending Bungo's body with her own. It was with an angry cry that Bilbo rushed the orcs. Bilbo returned to Bagend with a heavy heart and many kills under his bloody belt. 

 

That was three weeks before his coming of age. When no mark appeared on his forearm, Bilbo barely noticed. To wrought in his grief to care. Not only did the orcs take his parents, they took his voice as well. Leaving him only the blood on his hands and the scars on his neck.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ 

 

Twenty years later found one Bilbo Baggins wrapped in his house coat, sitting down to a fine dinner of fish and lemon. Then there was a knock on his door. It was a hearty knock. One made by a stern hand and a sound that terrified Bilbo. He wasn't expecting company, especially not company in this weather. Opening his door with his customary sign that read  **Bilbo Baggins, at your service** . Standing in Bilbo's open doorway was a dwarf. A rather large dwarf at that. Shaved head with a loop of hair right above his ears and two battle axes stashed in an x formation on his back.

 

He had only met one dwarf before, a wonderful dwarf man with an ax in his head and only deep graveling sounds for his own. He taught Bilbo one of the only forms of communication he knows now, Iglishmek. Or, at least, that is what he called it. It is a form of speaking with your hands, the sign language of the dwarrows. The dwarf, Bifur, left many moons ago to return to his family in the blue mountains.

 

Still, the dwarf standing in front of him was, well, stern looking and nothing like Bifur. However, it had been a minute and the stern dwarf had yet to introduce himself. Putting away his sign Bilbo posed his hands to speak. 

 

_ 'Master Dwarf, it is a pleasure to meet you. I am Bilbo Baggins, son of Bungo Baggins, at the service of both you and your family. Now I do believe it is only polite to introduce yourself, no?' _

 

~~~

 

Dwalin POV

 

It was raining, dammit. Rain and him never went well together. It soaked his fur and flattened his beard into a tangled mass of uncontrollable curls. So when he finally came upon the round green door he was frustrated, hungry, and downright tired. He had been traveling for over a week trying to find this damn place and to hell if he seemed a little shocked when a quant little hobbit opened the door with a sign, clearly in Westron, held between his hands. Not saying a thing. Mahal, did it have to be Westron? It is one of the two languages that he couldn't read. So he stayed silent, staring at the man that was to be their new burglar. He was a short little thing with a  head full of bland curls that covered his neck in delicate waves. His eyes, oh his eyes, they were a magnificent emerald green. The exact color of the words on the burly dwarfs forearm, words in a language that he also could not red. Blasted all to hell.

 

Dwalin was just about to say something, anything, when the hobbit's small adorable hands started to move. Now this was a language that he knew. Iglishmek is taught to all young dwarrows along with their runes and words. Iglishmek is just as secret as Khuzdul so it was with great surprise that the hobbits hands seemed so familiar with the twists and curves of the complicated dwarven language. 

 

_ 'Master Dwarf, it is a pleasure to meet you.'  _

 

Dwalin began to pay close attention to the word forming hands. 

 

_ 'I am Bilbo Baggins, son of Bungo Baggins, at the service of both you and your family. Now I do believe it is only polite to introduce yourself, no? _ ' 

 

The hobbit has cheek. Oh this will be an interesting journey indeed.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

Bilbo POV...sorta...

 

The dwarf, still no name, let out a small laugh and took a hasty bow.

 

"Dwalin, son of Fundin, at the service of both you and your family."

 

He looked a bit sheepish. The dwarf..no Dwalin, looked longingly into his smial with a slightly desperate frown on his face. It was adorable. 

 

' _ Well Master Dwalin, welcome to my smial. May I ask what your doing here over dinner. _ ' 

 

More of a demand then a question and had Dwalin rushing into the smial and out of the rain before he could even finish. He was in for a long night. 

 

And a long night it was indeed. Dwalin was the only dwarf to arrive that night and what a good thing it was for Bilbo had no knowledge of his upcoming role in the company nor did he have any knowledge he was to host dwarves at all. The evening was taken up with long talks about dwarven history, a surprising thing for Dwalin who wasn't expecting such knowledge outside of his race. Bilbo also showed his hospitality by not once looking upon Dwalin with pity, fear, and or hostility. It was a quite refreshing for Dwalin for even those looks came from his own race. The night, however, almost ended with Dwalin contemplating passing out on Bilbo's floor and so only truly ended with Bilbo escorting Dwalin to a guest room and going to bed himself in his own room.

 

The next morning was different. The night before Bilbo had been able to convince Dwalin that there was no threat in his little smial and that the older dwarf could relax with no worries of battle breaking out in his sleep. So it wasn't too big of a surprise that Dwalin walked into Bilbo's kitchen in only his overshirt, leggings, and a thin layer of chainmail. No shoes to be seen. Bilbo was delighted that his guest trusted him so much. With a small hand gesture and a point down the hall Bilbo was able to communicate that there was plenty of hot water and Dwalin should go enjoy a nice bath. With a laugh Bilbo watched as Dwalin practically sprinted to the bathroom. Turning back to his kitchen he went back to his grocery list. He had a long day ahead of him and, after all, he has thirteen dwarves to cook for.

 

~~~~~~

 

It was Balin who showed up first. A hearty laugh on his tongue and a polite bow on Bilbo's doorway. 

 

"Balin, son of Fundin, at you and your families service."

 

' _ Bilbo Baggins, son of Bungo Baggins, at you and your families service. If you will head into the dining room, I would greatly appreciate a little help moving the table? _ '

 

"Of course laddie, just point the way"

 

The princes presented themselves next.

 

"Fili,"

 

"and Kili,"

 

"~at your service~"

 

' _ Bilbo Baggins, son of Bungo Baggins, at you and your families service. Come, you can help Balin in the dining room _ .’

  
  


It took the boys a moment to register the movement of their host's hands but once they did they were running toward the dining room like orcs were on their heels. 

 

"Shoes off lads, you are tracking mud all over our dear host's floors." Balin's head spoke while hanging out of the dining room with a stern voice and an even sterner look. The resemblance was uncanny to his brothers face the night before. The boys, clearly used to following orders looked sheepishly at Bilbo and walked slowly back to the front door to lay down their boots next to Balin's. "Now come lads. This old dwarf needs some help with the table."

 

"~Yes Mister Balin, Sir.~"

 

It was not five minutes later that there was another knock at his door. A soft timid knock that had Bilbo smiling. He could hear them on the other side of the door. A whole group of dwarrows just waiting for the warmth of the smial in front of them. Opening the door Bilbo was not expecting to be squashed by a mountain of dwarves. It was about now that Dwalin had finished his bath. Decked in new clothes, shoe-less, and wet unbraided hair Dwalin found himself following the noise down the hall. 

 

"Get off our burglar lads before we don't have one any longer."

 

Silence followed. It was the hatted dwarf that got up first, helped by an equally behatted wizard. One by one the dwarves stood up staring between the hobbit on the floor and the clearly relaxed dwarf in front of them. That is, all except one dwarf. One dwarf stood with wide eyes and an even wider smile directed solely at their host. Their host who has finally stood on his too large, to a dwarf, feet. 

 

' _ Hello, Bilbo Baggins, son of Bungo Baggins, at you and your families service. _ '

 

There was silence for a few minutes. An awkward silence that left Bilbo jittering from foot to foot. 

 

' _ The food is almost ready, _ ' turning to the boys, ' _ Be dears and finish setting the table while I place the food. _ '

 

"Of course" Fili

 

"Mr. Boggins" Kili

 

"~we would be happy too~."

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

*edited October 5, 2016

  
So that is basically where I ended the story on FF.net but I added a bit more here. Like how Bifur is the dwarf and some other stuff. I don't know when the next chappie will be up. I move into College next week so who knows. But R&;R I do so love it when the comments feed the muse.


	2. Thorin...and trolls??

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Thorin is a dick and Bilbo is very calm

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *Its short, unedited, and frankly is kinda sucks. I’m sorry I’m really sick and honestly I’m not even sure what is happening right now but you blessed by with 100+ kudos and it's Christmas so….yay!!! Update!!! Don’t yell at me. I will do my very best to have another chapter up before I go back to school. Maybe right around New Years?? Who knows. But blessed holidays and purple rhinos. I love you guys.

It was loud, sound filled his halls for the first time in over fifteen years. No one comes to visit the mad Baggins of the shire with no voice and no mark. So BagEnd has been empty, not really of course, Bilbo has been living there this entire time but the halls have felt empty without the shouts of exultation and the tails of celebrations. Without the laughter bouncing off the walls. Naturally, the smial was sad when silence reigned after the last knock on its round green door. The smial turned angry though when the knocker walked right passed its resident and towards the trickster in the pointy hat.

“Looks more like a grocer than a burglar to me.” if it was even possible the silence only got more agitated when a dagger embedded itself in the wall right next to Thorin’s ear, just grazing his cheek.

“ _Excuse me, I do believe you have neglected to introduce yourself to the master of the house. Which if there was any confusion is me not Mr. Gandalf as he has led you to believe. Place your cloak on the hook next to the others and your boots in the hall. Don’t forget to place your weapons in the closet with the others._ ”

Bilbo then walked from the hall where he had opened the door to the table where he calmly sat in between the smirking Bifur and the gaping Dwalin, who had only ever seen Dis put Thorin in his place so soundly.

“ _Kili be a dear and get your uncles portion from the kitchen. It’s being kept warm in the oven._ _Thank you dear._ ”

The air was heavy and Thorin’s wide eyes didn’t leave the silver glint of the knife even as Bilbo excused himself for bed.  
~~~~~

Despite the show in the fourer three weeks before, the dwarrow seem to be under the impression that Bilbo had never actually traveled before. Still, Thorin was the only one willing to express as such. He was stubborn in his insistence that the ‘knife accident’ at the hobbit’s home was just that, an accident. Bilbo’s reaction to the howls of wargs only seemed to cement the idea that he was absolutely useless in all things but cooking. That dinner was quite delicious and even Thorin could recognize that. Honestly though, it was getting quite annoying, to Bilbo anyways, with the constant angriness spouted in his direction. He was perfectly capable of taking care of himself and just because he could no longer speak did not mean he had become an invalid and Thorin’s insistence that he has was intolerable.

It wasn’t till the Trolls that Bilbo got to show Thorin how worthy he was to be in his company. Not that Bilbo cared really but he was quite enjoying this adventure and the attitude was starting to make his dwarrow drift. Not Bifur of course, or really any of the Ur brothers but Dwalin’s sudden quietness was really pissing Bilbo off. He would do quite anything to keep his Dwarrow, and they were his now, safe from quite anything really and the sudden lack of conversation was throwing him through a loop. He was sure it was Thorin’s fault too. No one dare go against King’s orders, even the heavily implied ones, and it was the King that shunned him and far be it his company to disregard his opinion. Alright, fine, be it what it was.

In light of that, Bilbo wasn’t quite sure that there was anyone coming to his rescue. Not that he needed it really but three trolls were quite a lot to deal with on one's own. He knew the Ur brothers would try to come, at least, but the others were really a hit or miss. He would like to think that they wouldn’t leave a member of the company behind, but according to Thorin he isn’t a member of the company so Bilbo supposes he’s in this on his own. No matter, it was really quite easy. The Trolls were already arguing amongst themselves and it only took two throwing axes to the eyes of one for him to fall dead on another conveniently pushing the second troll onto the fire where his covering erupted into flickers of orange and red. It was the third one that gave the most trouble but even then it wasn’t too hard. Distraught over his brothers deaths, Bilbo supposes they were brothers-they sure as hell argued like ones-, it only took a few slices to the trolls ankles for him to fall and then he was the perfect height to stab right in the eye. It is quite an efficient way to kill.

When the Dwarrow came barrelling into the clearing, expecting trolls and possible death they were only met with a calm hobbit inspecting his pony’s well being. It would cause quite a setback if the ponies were harmed in this whole ordeal.


	3. Elves??

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dwalin feels and Elven apearences

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the first draft but you have all been so patent with me that I thought you deserved something, even if its not all that great just yet....

Dwalin’s POV

Dwalin just grinned, and kept on grinning. He knew his Bilbo was something and Mahal was he something. When the boys came rushing into the campsite, mud splashed on there pants from stomping in puddles and panting breaths, his first thought was to look for his Hobbit. Of course Bilbo wasn’t by his pack like Dwalin expected. When was he ever where Dwalin expected. 

When the boy’s voices where heard the only thing Dwalin could make out was Bilbo and Trolls. When Thorin stood up and bellowed to follow Dwalin didn’t hesitate. Nothing was going to hurt his hobbit if he had anything to say about it and frankly Dwalin had quite a lot to say about it considering he doesn’t talk all that much. 

Rushing in was ill advised but the sounds had stopped and no one could see through the foliage to determine the state of their hobbit. So rushing in it was. Of course Dwarves can’t rush without yelling and with a war bellow to make any foe cower they rushed into the clearing. 

The clearing holding three dead trolls, thirteen ponies, and a hobbit. A hobbit who was currently feeding his ponie an apple and stroking its mane so lovingly that Dwalin wished it was his mane that the hobbit was stroking. And so Dwalin was grinning. Grinning so large that he got weird looks from the boys and a twinkling one from his brother. Let them think what they like, he wasn’t gonna hide his amusement for anything. 

Though that grin did dissipate sooner than he would have liked. Of course it was Thorin’s fault. Lately, it feels like all of his disappointment is aimed in Thorin’s direction. Honestly, what did Thorin have against Dwalin’s adorable hobbit. He wasn’t useless. Bilbo did his fair share just as everyone in the company did and he never complained, not once. And did he not just prove himself above and beyond by retrieving the ponies and keeping the idiot younglings safe? Resolved, Dwalin is determined to confront Thorin at the next resting point. 

That will have to wait however as apparently wargs are approaching.

 

Bilbo POV

The wargs weren’t a surprise, Radagast though, he was definitely a surprise. Bilbo hadn’t seen him in over thirty years. Not since one of his later trips to Rivendell. Radagast was always kind and answered all of Bilbo’s incessant questions. And boy did young Bilbo have a lot of questions. Curiosity ran strong in the Took line and the Brown Wizard always encouraged Bilbo in his adventures. So much so that he became somewhat protective of his favorite hobbit. Scarily protective. It was a good thing that Radagast got distracted with the wargs before he caught wind of Bilbo. Or at least, Bilbo thought so. No one needed to see the mother henning that would ensue if the little wizard noticed Bilbo’s presence amongst a bunch of dirty, somewhat angry, dwarrow.   
The wizard in their company, the grey behatted fool, was not so lucky to avoid the smaller wizards attention. And he would not be so lucky to escape a barrage of angry dwarrow when they realize where he has been leading them. Dwarrow hate elves. It is as common a knowledge as Westron. The hatred was even more so in this ‘majestic’ bunch. Why, there hasn’t been a night where at least one disparaging story about the ‘tree shaggers’ was shared and Bilbo didn’t look forward to what was surely to be a magnificent hissy fit thrown by their very own King Without a Mountain. 

However, Bilbo did have to admit that the green grass between his toes was worth any bitching that the mighty dwarven kind would do. Bilbo did miss his Uncle after and the house of the lonely home would always hold a special place in his heart. 

~~~

The clomping of hooves filled the clearing as the dwarrow circle their hobbit. Bilbo’s sigh was still heard though. It was hard to miss the raspy sound and it proved to stop the stampeding in it’s tracks. 

“Uncle BIlbo!” 

Two identical elves hollered while they completely ignored the dwarves presence and zeroed in on the hobbit. 

“We weren’t expecting you,” Elf 1

“You should have written,” Elf 2

“We would have come and escorted you,” Elf 1

“There was no need to resort to the company of these...dwarves…” Elf 2

The glare from Bilbo that followed that statement should have shut the boys up but the words only kept coming. 

“Yes, yes we would have been there as soon as the raven landed, honestly” Elf 1

“We missed you Uncle Bilbo.” 

Both elves finished with a smile and a dismount from their horses. 

“Behave boys, these dwarrow are mine and you will treat them as such. Where are your manners. Do I have to tell Lindir that you are neglecting your duties again?”

Bilbo’s hands weren’t seen by the dwarrow but the elve’s height difference was to their advantage in this instance. They both paled at the mention of Lindir and immediately turned to Thorin, who was not looking happy. No not happy at all. Bilbo was so screwed. He sighed. There goes any hope of resolving this, issue, that the dwarf has with him. Whatever the issue is. Being familiar with the elves surely put him so far in the hatred list that he was all but irredeemable. 

“Thorin Oakenshield and company. Be welcome in our home as friends to Uncle Bilbo.” Elf 2

“We as the sons of Lord Elrond offer you shelter to recoup from your long journey as thank you for seeing our hobbit all this way.” Elf 1

“Rest and enjoy some food.” Elf 2

“We will escort you now to the guestrooms and send someone to gather you for a meal shortly.” 

The boys finished together as they often do and looked at Bilbo for approval. A shake of the head and a tired smile was all the answer they received but it was enough to send them walking and a small push from the hobbit had the dwarrow following. 

It was going to be a long night.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dwalin dreams and Bilbo realizes something interesting.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry its taken so long. I've been having a hard time figuring out exactly where this story is going. I hope this helps a little. Its somewhat unedited and half of it was written almost a year ago so if the tense is inconsistent just ignore it. I'll get to it soon. Love you all and thank you for sticking with me this long! <3<3

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

Dwalin POV

 

Honestly, Dwalin wasn't sure his….no, their, ...the company’s.. hobbit was ever going to stop surprising him. Elves. Of course his….their..FUCK IT! HIS..Bilbo would be friendly with the elves. Hell, they even call him  _ Uncle Bilbo _ ! What is with that. He clearly can't actually be their uncle. He's a hobbit for Mahal’s sake! 

 

Still...those hellions obviously mean a lot to the little hafling. But did he have to disappear with them? 

 

~~~

Elve’s POV

 

It only took Eloden and Elrohir a few minutes in the dwarrow’s company to see how their tiny uncle fit. The company’s reactions to them calling Bilbo their uncle made Bilbo’s standing with each and every dwarrow clear. The one with the ax in his head looked put out, and his companions, the round one and the dwarf with braids that defied gravity, just looked confused. They kept glancing at the first one trying to catch some sort of lead on what to do. The others though, they looked on with different degrees of realization and dawning horror. All except two. The leader, Thorin, looked betrayed. Like their littlest Uncle cut his heart out and watched as he bled to death. Dramatic, yes, but definitely a reaction worthy of the famed King without a Mountain. It was the last ones reaction though that really grabbed their attention. He looked, well, he looked downright jealous till Bilbo responded with irritation and he looked more relieved than anything. Relieved and resigned. 

 

“I give it two weeks.” Elrohir leaned over and whispered to his brother.

 

“Hell, I give it two days.”

  
  
  


Bilbo POV

 

The water was wonderful. Just hot enough to loosen the tension in his muscles and pry all the grime of his skin. Ahhhh was it good to feel clean again. Honestly he loved his dwarrow. He did. He just wished they would be more welcoming. He gets it of course. He's an outsider. Someone who knows their secrets but don't know his in return. It's reasonable to be weary. He gets that. But it's been over two months now, one would think they would have warmed up by then. Honestly. 

 

~~

 

After his bath his elves had been waiting for him to lead him to his room. Dinner had been waiting for him at the hobbit sized table on the terrace. Bilbo wasn’t terribly surprised that his Elve’s were keeping him separate from the dwarves. He wasn’t going to complain for now. Though he dreads the lack of manners that he is sure was happening at the dinner they were actively keeping him from. He was sure that the Elves where withholding the meat till the end and he just knows the Dwarrow will not take that well. And Mahal forbid they bring the drink. All the better he was missing that, he’ll just find them in the morning. Besides his bed was just shouting in invitation. 

 

~~

 

Yavanna had he missed a bed. Any bed really but the elves always did know how to sleep and this bed had always been his favorite. Big and round, the pillows full of feathers and the mattress made of the softest silk threads. He didn’t want to move. He never wanted to move. 

 

Bilbo sighed, he had been hiding long enough. It had to have been passed second breakfast by then. Getting up he didn’t even brush his hair. It had been getting longer and after that sleep Bilbo couldn’t be bothered. 

 

In his search for the Dwarror he neglected to calculate one dramatic error. He didn’t know where the elves had placed them. It didn’t seem to matter though for soon enough he heard the sound of deep loud laughter that could have only been Dwalin. Bilbo followed the noise until he came upon a bright clearing. He supposed he slept longer than previously thought. 

 

Huh.

 

Found them. 

  
  


~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

Dwalin POV

 

After the Elves had taken his Bilbo, Dwalin just sort of went with the motions. Dinner was a disaster, Bilbo would have been appalled. It was good Bilbo wasn’t there. He trusted the Elves to take care of the hobbit. It was clear that they had been doing so for a number of years and it was about time that his hobbit was treated with any sort of respect. It was with that thought that he could ignore the others in the company and just let his thoughts go and fall into a dream filled sleep. 

 

~

 

_ Bilbo was beautiful. His hair was a golden blond and so curly that Dwalin was sure that when he gripped it his hands would tangle and get lost within the mane. It had gotten so long over the journey so far. Bilbo’s ears could only be seen by the pointy tips so like an elves that it almost made him look like a child. Though his face aged him grown. The laugh lines on his eyes kept him warm despite the scowl permanently on his full thin lips.  _

 

_ His little hobbit was a warrior.  _

 

_ Bilbo sat astride Dwalin, effectively pinning him to the hard ground. Knife to his throat and the adorable silent giggle on his lips. Bilbo glowed. Sweat gleamed on his chest, arms beared. They had been sparring and Dwalin hadn’t been bested this thoroughly since he was a young lad fresh on the field and so cocky anyone could beat him.  _

 

_ Mahal it was arousing.  _

 

_ If only his could see a mark. Bilbo’s chest was clear, his arms scarred but no soul mark visible. Dwalin want him, wants this. If only. _

 

_ ‘ _ **_I win’_ ** _ Bilbo signed then got up. He grinned cheekily, winked, then turned to walk away. There it was. A smudge on Bilbo’s left lower back. Dwalin couldn’t make it out but now there was hope. Bilbo had a soulmark and maybe, just maybe, it bore Dwalin’s soul.  _

 

~

 

Dwalin woke up gasping. Thorin was standing over him. He looked concerned. 

 

“The boys found the kitchens. Bombur’s gone to figure out breakfast. Are you alright?”

 

He had hoped, it had felt so real. 

 

Dwalin grunted. When that didn’t settle his king he let out a soft breath that sounded vaguely like ‘I’m Fine’. That seemed to be enough, Thorin nodded and turned back to the rest of the room. The whole company appeared to be awake and somewhat restless. It was rare that Dwalin had been the last to awaken. He was always if not first then second. That dream affected him more than he would like to admit. Bilbo affected him more than he would like to admit. Mahal he wanted him, wanted this. If only it wasn’t a dream. 

 

Dwalin sighed.

 

He looked back around the room. The boys had that look about them. He sighed again. He got up to follow them as they snuck out to cause all the trouble they could. The elve’s where in for a surprise. 

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

Bilbo POV

  
  


The were naked. His Dwarror were naked in the middle of a courtyard. Bathing in a fountain. Bilbo couldn’t help but twitch his lips in a silent laugh. That was till he saw Dwalin. Yavanna was he handsome. His muscles were something else. It was like the first time he met him. His hair was wet and matted, eyes sparkling in the sun. The only differences was the smile on his chapped lips and the bareness of his skin. At this angle Bilbo could see the scars that riddled the Dwarfs back, they were magnificent. This Dwarf was a warrior, had been through so much, and could still smile and splash in a fountain like he was a faunt who had just discovered water for the first time. As Dwalin turned back around the color of the tattoo on his arm caught Bilbo’s attention. 

 

It was emerald, the exact color of Bilbo’s eyes. 

 

Intrigued Bilbo took a few steps closer. He could almost make out the writing. 

 

“Bilbo!!” A hand grasped his shoulder. 

 

It seemed he had been spotted. 

 

The peculiar tattoo left his mind as he was dragged into the fountain himself by an over eager Fili. Kili had spotted him first and sent Fili after him. He hadn’t noticed in his distraction. It was unbecoming. Wet and scowling he turned on the boys to start a spectacular rant. If he didn’t turn around then he wouldn’t blush. A naked Dwalin was too close. He wasn’t sure that if he had saw him that close he wouldn’t have done something drastic. Like blush. No, best to ignore him. Focus on scolding the boys for being so reckless. 

 

It wasn’t till later that night when he was laying back in bed that he focused back on Dwalin’s naked body and that familiar green tattoo. Only then did it dawn on him that the tattoo was placed exactly where a hobbit’s soulmark would be. It couldn’t be, could it? 


End file.
